The Legion
by Night Owl 93
Summary: Eve Black has dreams of a post-apocalyptic Earth run by a tyrannical organization called F.E.A.R. and a band of rebels called the Wild Ones. Fearing for her sanity, Eve's parents commit her to a mental institution. Her visions persist, and she'll soon come to learn these dreams are much more than fantasy. based on the Black Veil Brides film Legion Of The Black
1. Warrior Of Youth

"_**In the end, as you fade into the night,**_

_**Who will tell the story of your life?**_

_**And who will remember your last goodbye?…"**_

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**1.**

Black feet trampled white sand. The sun above, bright as it was over this barren desert, provided no warmth to her. As futile as it might have been, she had no choice but to run. The horned soldier charged after her, always remaining close on her tail with his weapon in its hands, but just far behind enough for her to remain out of its reach.

Its weapon was a staff as tall as the agent was, approximately seven or eight feet. The head of the staff was shaped similar to a "T" with double horizontal lines, a form made by two "F"s back to back, with a circle of more back-to-back "F"s encompassing it like a halo. This was the symbol of F.E.A.R., the religious order to whose power which the agent, and the rest of the Earth, submitted to.

Where were they? Where were the Fallen Ones? She had to find them, or else all would be lost.

She looked back over her shoulder, only to see that the soldier was no longer behind her. When she turned back, it was suddenly standing directly in her path. His spear made a swipe at her head, but she was just quick enough to dodge the strike. In leaping away from the attack, she fell to the ground below. The soldier in dark robes advanced on her, its spear raised and ready to make the kill. The masked girl held her medallion, one in the shape of a gold pentagram with petals on each of its five points, before her at arm's length as if it could shield her. The soldier swatted the thing out of her hand as easily as one would an insect, then raised its weapon high. The girl spoke her final words, then she was finished.

It was then that Eve was awakened. Lying across the cool metal of one of the bleacher seats, she took advantage of what little time she had to gain some extra sleep. Because of these dreams of hers, sleep came seldom to her while in bed at night, so she was obligated to get some where and when ever, for how long ever, opportunity granted. Like now during lunch hour, for instance.

But young Eve Black knew that these were more than mere fantasies concocted by her subconscious. These were far too real to be. And she knew all too well that she was not the only human being to experience such strange episodes.

As she always did, Eve took her "Tome" (as she preferred to call it) out from her bag. In reality, it was a black two-inch thee ringed binder. On the front of it, she had painted in gold the same star sigil she had always seen in her sleep. In its bindings, she transcribed these visions of hers, in both words and drawings. Now, taking her pen in hand, she drew the girl whose tragic death she had witnessed on a blank white page, with her tattered black clothes and blackened skin, the horned and pointed-nosed devil mask over her face, the medallion dangling from the chain clutched in her hand.

It was as she then checked her watch that she realized that unless she hurried at that moment, she would be late for class. Not wanting to be tardy, Eve quickly collected her things, slipping her Tome back into her book bag, then unrolled her leather jacket that she had used for a makeshift pillow, slipping it back over her arms, and left the vacant track field to return to the school building.

Her returning presence was met with mocking glances and sneers. Her silence and passion for dressing in black had earned her a less than popular social status, made worse by her "crazy stories", not to mention her familial relation to another former infamous student. Their crude insults were able to be shut out by the earphones she wore, flooding her ears with noisy metal music. She met the eyes and exchanged smiling waves with some of the few members of the student body she considered to be her friends, those who, like her, were ridiculed and ostracized for their being different from the norms, though in reality they were just regular and misunderstood kids who liked to wear a lot of black.

Once she had taken her seat in the classroom, she continued where she had left off in her Tome. In the lines beneath the drawing, she wrote the tale of the girl in the mask, of her daring escape from the Institution, a prison for Wild Ones, those who rebelled against F.E.A.R., to her meeting her end at the end of the horned soldier's spear.

Her focus was maintained by her continuing to listen to her music, despite school policies forbidding students like her from doing so. Fortunately, her long black hair was able to obscure the wires from sight. Unfortunately, this method still was not enough to prevent her from getting caught. Her teacher, a middle-aged woman with thickly-rimmed glasses, waved her arms to catch Eve's attention. Once she had it, her lips moved in muted words as her hands signed for Eve to take out her ear buds. When she did not, the teacher plucked the bud out from her left ear herself.

"You cannot listen to music in class," she sternly told the girl, "Now take those out and leave them out."

Eve pretended to do so, then as soon as the woman's head was turned, she put them right back in. This facade only lasted another couple minutes. The next thing she knew, the teacher had stormed back towards her desk and practically snapped the chords as she ripped them from Eve's ears.

"That's it! To the principal's office," she declared as she hoisted Eve from her seat, "Move!"

With the teacher escorting her, Eve was marched down the locker-lined hallways to the room where the dreaded patriarch dwelled. On the way, Eve clumsily tripped over a loose shoelace, causing her to spill her bag and all its contents to the floor. As she fell to her knees to gather her things back up, her teacher hunkered down as well to assist. In doing so, the woman caught a glimpse of what was inside Eve's Tome.

Once her possessions were recollected, Eve was back to her feet and back to trudging towards her judgment. The entire time she sat before the principal's desk, her mind was elsewhere entirely, lost in wonders and horrors of a world that she visited during slumber. For a good fifteen minutes or more, he didn't even acknowledged her presence, as he was in the middle of a phone conversation that he clearly felt was far more important than dealing an insubordinate teenage girl.

While the old man was too occupied to pay her any notice, Eve wrote. And in the time she spent writing, her free left hand was inside the pocket of her leather jacket, twirling the thin silver rosary chain, rubbing the onyx beads between her fingertips. This rosary was unlike any others, though, hand-crafted by Eve's brother. Instead of a miniature replica of Jesus Christ crucified to the cross of wood, attached to the chain was the star with petals on all ten sides as big as the palm of her hand.

"Miss Black," he finally said to her, "This makes the third time this week you've gotten in trouble for listening to music during class."

But Eve's gaze stayed downwards, remaining unresponsive.

"For that, you're going to have to serve a detention after school tomorrow," he then informed her. This news still did not affect her. All the while he spoke, Eve wished and wished the old coot would just shut his mouth and dismiss her already. "I've also been hearing some... well, not very pleasant things too," he continued, "According to a couple of your teachers, and quite a number of students, you've been telling some of the most outrageous things."

This finally gave her pause. Her writing hand ceased and her eyes warily gazed up through her hair.

"They say you've been coming up with stories about the end of the world and horned men and people called... Oh what was it? The 'crazy ones'? No, the 'wild ones', that's it."

"So what?" Eve snapped, "Who else's business is it but mine?"

"Well, as you know, Andrew came up with stories like yours before he… well, you know."

"Am I in trouble for having imagination? For being creative, unlike all the other carbon-copy clod-heads around here? Hmm?"

"No, Miss Blakk, that's not it at all."

"Then I'm done here."

Her Tome closed with an emphatic boom, Eve rose from the chair and made for the door. Just as her hand made contact with the chrome knob, she was stopped to hear her principal's final words.

"I already called your parents. They're on their way to pick you up now."

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**This is my adaptation of the Black Veil Brides film, Legion Of The Black, made for their new album Wretched And Divine. **

**This story is not a literal adaptation of the film, but more just based off of it while adding my own twist of events.**

**Updates coming soon, so stay tuned**


	2. Faith Will Find A Way

**2.**

The duration of the car ride home from the school to the house was an excruciating period of tense silence between father, mother, and daughter. But once they were inside their home, that silence was broken by Eve's mother.

"Your principal recommends we have you visit a psychiatrist."

"You're sending me to a freaking head-shrink?!" Eve almost shrieked, not believing what she was hearing now.

"Well what choice do we have?" her mother then said.

"What choice?! I'm your child! You're supposed to choose to be on my side," Eve shouted as she threw her bag to the floor with an enraged slam, "not treat me like I'm a fucking whack-job!"

"Hey! You watch your mouth!" her father then barked, waving a stern warning finger at her, "We're your parents, and we have a right to be concerned."

"What, because I like to write stories?" Eve groaned, "Why is everybody making such a big deal over nothing?"

"Because your brother didn't think those stories were nothing," her mother then said.

"I. Am not. Andy," Eve hissed through clenched teeth.

As if wanting to find evidence to prove her claim, Eve's father snatched up her schoolbag and began digging through it.

"Dad! What are you-?!"

She tried to get it back, but since he had an extra foot of height on her, he was able to keep it a good distance away from her. After a few seconds of searching, he found what he was looking for. With it now in his grasp, he tossed the bag Eve had been so eager for back into her arms. She immediately dumped it back to the floor; it was as useless to her now as it was to him.

The Tome then fell open in his hand. Mother craned her neck to look in as well as Father flipped through page after page. The father's hand that was doing the flipping tore one of the sheets free from its rings.

"'Victim to the dark seduction of the serpentine matriarch,'" he read aloud, "'Together the Wild Ones and this Legion Of The Black march against the armies of F.E.A.R.' That sure sounds like Andy."

Just like her parents were reaching their limits with her, Eve was reaching hers with them. Without another word, Eve retrieved the paper and Tome from her father's hands and retreated to her bedroom, shutting the door with a hard, and very loud, slam, then dropped her things across her bed before sitting on it herself.

Her eyelids squeezed tightly shut so as to stifle the rage-induced tears that now threatened to boil forth as she sat on her bed. Upon opening them again, her eyes happened to fall on the framed photograph of herself and her older brother, Andy. The picture had been taken on her tenth birthday. A soft smile came across her face from all the warm memories that the photo brought to her. He was just barely eighteen years old himself at the time, tall and slender with long jet-black hair and the brightest blue eyes in the world, made brighter by the black eyeliner thickly painted along his lids. Eve, on the other hand, was more like a China-doll, short and petite, round-faced, and unlike Andy, Eve had inherited their father's dark hazel eyes. Though now, her hair was as long and black as his had always been.

That was also the last night anyone had ever seen him again. Almost six years had passed since then. Everybody in town seemed to have their own theories as to where he had disappeared to, even his and Eve's own parents. The general consensus was that he had merely run away, then after was in prison, an asylum (the more popular theory), in the circus, living on the streets as a bum, or dead. Eve, herself, did not accept any of these ideas as to her brother's location. She was certain that he was still alive, somewhere.

As she was gazing at the old photo, she had been absent-mindedly stroking the sleeve of her jacket, which had actually belonged to Andy. The jacket, along with everything he owned had been abandoned by him after he had... left so many years before, part of the reason Eve refused to believe that he had merely run away.

She then extended her hand to run her fingers over the star painted on the cover of her Tome. He created the design himself, telling the then ten-year-old Eve that he had seen it in his dreams, painted on waving banners held high on raging battlefields, its image adored and revered as much as the cross itself had been. She had listened to all of his stories like they were fairy fables, even though he, himself, did not believe them to be fictional at all. It was one month after his dreams began that he was gone, vanished without a trace.

Andy owned something similar. A green spiral notebook. Only instead of stories, he wrote lyrics and poems, describing the same things Eve wrote of. If he had the chance, he would become a famous rock star, a pillar of the music industry, but tragically his chances were taken from him. Naturally, she kept that as well, safely and secretly tucked away where no one, especially her parents, might find it. Over the past six years, she spent each day memorizing every word in it.

"Eve? Can you come out please?"

Her smile instantly left as she heard her mother knocking on her bedroom door. Refusing to see the woman's face, Eve reached over and turned the lock on the door, then to remedy her mother's persistence, Eve decided to resupply her eardrums with loud music. Mother persisted for another minute or so, then her place was taken by Father's more urgent, more angered knocking, to which Eve responded by turning up the volume.

Then came something that Eve could not tune out with eardrum-bursting music. The door suddenly burst open, the frame blowing into splinters, as two men dressed in blue scrubs came charging in. Before she even had a chance to react, one pinned Eve down to the bed by her arms while the other pierced the vein in her neck with a loaded syringe.

"Mom!" she cried out as she kicked and struggled against the hold on her limbs, "Dad! What... What is..."

The tranquilizers that had been pumped into her veins were already taking effect. She quickly found herself too tired and too weak to even raise a finger. Even her eyelids felt as if each weighed ten pounds.

Her MP3 fell from her grasp as her body was lifted and carried away by the two men, one holding her shoulders while the other had her legs. Through half-lidded eyes, she could only watch as she was being carted on a gurney into the back of an ambulance. Both of her parents were in there with her, her father seated at her side and her mother at her head, her fingers straightening the sedated girl's hair, which was nothing but an irritation to said sedated girl.

She faded in and out of consciousness for a while. All she could absorb was being carted out of the ambulance, then seeing fluorescent lights whizzing past her head as she was being rolled down a hallway. Father and Mother were prevented by a nurse from following. They exchanged words with a doctor. Both sounded worried. They argued amongst each other, then were gone.

Then she was lifted from the gurney onto an actual bed in a room of white. The door was shut and locked, then the drugs completed their effects and she was sent into a deep sleep.

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**second chapter. as you can tell from this, this adaptation is being given my own personal twist on things, like adding some extra scenes and maybe some miniscule tweaks here and there, but don't worry, nothing drastic**


	3. A World Of Hate

**3.**

Her life had not been ended as sudden as it might have seemed. The agent's spear merely pierced through her abdomen, leaving her to slowly bleed. Her hand feebly reached across the sand to take hold of her medallion.

It was then that the full extent of her failure truly hit her, piercing her heart far more painfully than any blade could. She had failed to reach the Fallen Ones. Now all that remained of her destiny was to bleed to death, alone, lying on her back in the middle of the desert, all hope of salvation for future generations to die with her.

Her eyes closed as she waited for death's sweet embrace to release her from this excruciating fact. It was in this waiting that an eclipse came to block the sun's light. She chose to open her eyes one last time to witness this. In doing so, she saw that it was not the moon, but the figure of a man standing over her that obscured the sun's beam.

The Prophet. He had come at last. Her bleeding heart rejoiced. He crouched down to scoop her limp body up into his arms, cradling her in them as he carried her through the desert.

She was later lowered back down to the ground, only now it was in a place where she could die safely and peacefully.

The other four Fallen appeared behind the Prophet. The Deviant, the Destroyer, the Mystic, and the Mourner. The latter's company would be much appreciated there. All five of them wore long dark hair and leather jackets, some of them with the sleeves torn short or even removed, with their titles printed across their backs with white chalk.

And from behind them, a crowd assembled of long-haired, grimy, fragile bodies gathering in a circle around her. These were the rebels, the "Wild Ones" that F.E.A.R. had been so adamant about eradicating.

"Who is she?" one of them asked.

"She escaped the Institution," answered Prophet, his eyes remaining on the girl's masked face, "And was attacked by a Horned Agent."

The girl then pointed out one amidst the crowd. A very, very small boy, who couldn't have been any older than eight years old. Hesitantly, he walked towards her. She took one of his hands in hers and, bringing her other arm around, placed the medallion in his upturned palm.

The Prophet saw this, a strange look appearing in his eyes as he saw the star in her hand. He leaned in to get a closer look at her eyes…

...And this was where the dream ended. The next thing she knew, she was lying in a bed in which she did not remember laying down, in a small white room she had no memory of coming into.

The last thing she could remember was coming home early from school, then getting into a squabble with her parents because of her "stories", and then...

Now she remembered. The two men who barged into her bedroom and dosed her. Between there and where she was at the moment, it was a drug-induced haze. But why did those men come in and drag her out of her home? Where were her parents? And most importantly, where was she now?

The room she was now in was more like a cell. It was small, though cramped would be the better adjective. Even though all the room contained was a bed and a desk in the far corner, the space was nonetheless unbearably claustrophobic. Was she in prison? It seemed much like a prison cell. But that idea did not make any sense; she had not committed any crimes to land her in prison, after all.

Above the desk was a mirror. Looking into said mirror, she saw that she was still wearing the same clothes she was in before being transported here. Leather jacket, black t-shirt and black denim shorts, Converses, all still intact. She had gained one extra addition to her apparel, however: an ID bracelet with her name and the name of Fairfax Federal Institute printed onto the laminated paper.

The door was in the same wall which the desk was against. There were two slots built into it, one above, one below, the first for viewing in or out, depending on which side one were to be on, the lower for food. She tried opening the door, but, of course, it was locked.

In the rear ear end of the room was a small washroom with a toilet and sink. In the far wall above the sink was a square window, its glass guarded with linked wires. It was still daytime, though the sunlight was dimmed by the blanket of white clouds. There was no sort of clock in the room, either, so Eve was left completely unable to know what time of the day it was. It might have been morning, but for all she knew, it could have just as easily been late afternoon.

Eve attempted to look through the door slots. There was nothing on the opposite side of the hall except a blank white wall. The space the slots gave did not allow much peripheral vision, so all Eve saw was more wall.

She then moved to the other side of the room in hopes of finding out more information about her location through whatever she might see out through the window. Where she was, the land beyond her room was strictly forest. There was nothing but a stretch of trees going on and on as far as the eye could see.

She couldn't believe it. Within one day's time, she had been plucked from her home and dropped into some Institute in the middle of not-even-God-knows-where. Unsure of what she should do, or what she even could do, in her position, Eve crawled back onto the achingly stiff bed, curling up on her side in a fetal position facing the wall, not wanting to see anything but.

As she laid there, she could feel something in her pocket jabbing rather uncomfortably into her side. Reaching into the pocket on that side, she was elated to see that she still had Andy's rosary with her. With a smile on her face, she clutched the rosary to her chest, knowing that no matter where she was or what craziness she faced, as long as she had Andy's chain with her, she could endure it all.

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**posted this a little earlier than i had originally planned, but i thought, ah screw it :P **

**enjoy**


	4. Don't Belong Here

**4.**

Their latest, most priceless acquisition continued to scream from her cell above. The prisoners below were frightened by the noise and would cringe in terror from it, because of both the volume of it and the length, which sometimes seemed to go on forever.

Her anguished cries were understandable. The hot tar that had been poured over every inch of her flesh seared her like acid, causing her inconceivable agony, even permanently blackening her skin. The mask that had been tacked onto her face was not exactly comfortable either.

Now she sat on her haunches, her back arched, her clawed fingers digging into the floor, saliva dribbling over her pursed as she panted and wailed, looking more like a rabid beast than a girl.

As the hooded guard peered inside through the slot, her mad eyes met its. Her teeth were bared and she screamed even louder than she ever had before. She bounded to her feet and began hurling herself into the concrete wall, again and again.

Fearing she would end up killing herself in the throes of her ferocity, the agent unlocked the door and hurried in to put a stop to this. He hadn't even seen the broken off chunk of concrete clenched in her hand. Nor did he get a chance to, for in less than a second's time, she using the stone to crush its skull.

That dream awakened Eve in an instant. So far, that ranked number one as the most horrifying one she had so far.

She sat upright in the bed, seeing that there was hardly any noticeable difference in the sun's brightness. She must not have slept for very long. Actually, she was amazed that she even had the ability to sleep after the pharmaceutical doze she had already been put under.

A soft 'click' resounded from the door as the lock was turned, then opened to allow a man in a suit with dark-gray combed hair to step inside.

"Good afternoon, Eve," he said as he took himself a seat in the desk chair. "How are you?"

As he sat, he brought out a small notepad and pen from his jacket pocket. But Eve merely stared at the man, as confused now as she had ever been.

"Oh right, I'm sorry. I should probably introduce myself first, shouldn't I? I'm your doctor, Dr. Mober."

"Doctor?" she echoed, officially even more confused than ever before. "Wh-where am I, exactly?"

"You're at the Fairfax Federal Institute," he answered her, "It's a mental hospital."

"Wh-what?!" Eve huffed, rising to her feet, "What the hell am I doing in a freaking loony-bin, doc?!"

"Your parents had you signed into our care so we could evaluate your mental state. Apparently they're worried about yours at the moment."

Eve rolled her eyes and scoffed in disbelief at this. "This is just so fucking typical of them," she snarled, giving the white-bricked wall a hard kick, hurting herself more than she may have hurt the wall.

"What's so typical of them?" wondered Dr. Mober.

"To totally blow things out of proportion," answered Eve, her gaze remaining fixed on the rectangular tiles, "I mean, lots of kids' parents do that, I guess. But this. This! Is definitely an all-time low."

"And what is it that they are blowing so out of proportion they felt the need to send you here?"

Eve remained mute to this inquiry. The answer was not something she felt at liberty to share with a man who was nothing but a complete stranger to her.

"Eve," he sighed, "If you want to get out here, and I know you do, you're going to have to cooperate with me. You know, the more you talk to me, the faster I can approve your dismissal."

She mulled this over in her head for a minute or so. Despite the repercussions for discussing the root cause of her cause for being in Fairfax at the time, but if that was the cost of her being freed from this prison for the mentally unhinged, then she was willing to pay up.

"My parents are afraid I'm turning into my brother," she began.

"And why would they go to these lengths to prevent that?"

"They didn't tell you about my brother, did they?"

"Not very much. Only that he was older and had disappeared about six years ago."

"Yeah. His name was... Is! Andy. He's about nine years older than me. And when I was a little kid, he started telling all these stories."

"What's wrong with a boy wanting to entertain his younger sibling?"

"The problem was: he actually believed they were real. He said he saw... visions of the world in the future, and said he needed to find a way to stop it from happening."

"I think I'm starting to get the picture here," he muttered with his head nodding as he took down his notes. "You've been having visions yourself?"

"No. At least, not exactly. I've been having really weird, really vivid dreams, and they're always like the kind of stuff Andy used to talk about," Eve explained to the doctor, "And I've been writing them into stories and stuff. It's kind of hard to get them out of my head otherwise, you know? I didn't realize a person could be committed for creativity nowadays."

"I know what you mean," said Dr. Mober. "And what sort of things have you, and I guess your brother as well, been dreaming about?" he then inquired.

"Like I said, about the future," Eve explained, "I'm not sure how far ahead, but in my dreams, the Earth ends up like a wasteland, and it gets ruled over by some tyrannical organization called F.E.A.R. And there are these rebels hiding underground that F.E.A.R. calls "the Wild Ones". It sounds kind of whacked, I know."

With an empathetic nod, Mober scribbled a few extra lines on his pad, then closed it and tucked it back into his pocket. "Well," he sighed as he rose from his seat, "I think that's more than enough for today."

"So, am I nuts or what?" asked Eve.

"Based on what you've just told me," answered her doctor, "I don't think so. What I think is that you miss your brother, and you've been dreaming up his stories because it's your subconscious' way of preserving his memory, of keeping him alive for you."

"I guess when you put it like that..."

"Enjoy your stay," he said to her in a light-hearted tone as he made his way towards the door. He gave it three sound raps with the back of his hand, and almost immediately after, the door was unlocked from the outside by the security officer standing guard.

"Just how long am I gonna be here, anyway?" Eve inquired, stopping Mober just before he could make his exit.

"It all depends on you, Eve," he told her, "On your cooperation with us and our treatment. Let's just say the 'out early for good behavior' especially applies here."

He gave a light chortle to his own dry sense of humor and told Eve, "Just don't worry yourself too much," in a bid of farewell, then he was gone.

And with that, Eve was once again left alone in her cell/room (she still was unsure which term would be best fitted for it). So she sat on the edge of her bed with her rosary held in her hands.

"I do miss you, Andy," she whispered as her thumb ran over the star, her voice so quiet that only herself and God could hear. "I really do."

Unbeknownst to her though, her actions were being closely watched via the security camera in the ceiling corner of her room. Mober's interest was especially piqued by the object she held clutched in her hands and the connection she clearly displayed with it.

He was starting to suspect the worst, especially after learning of her missing older brother. With the simplest exercise in research, he was able to discover that this Eve Black was indeed the younger sister of Andrew Black, whom they had "removed" six years back. And now, after hearing her talk of these "dreams" of hers, he began to fear that she herself could become a serious threat to them as well.

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**i had just finished a new chapter, so i thought i'd celebrate by posting this one ^_^**

**enjoy**


	5. A Song Worth Singing

**5.**

People who always say that hospital food is terrible had clearly never tasted food in a mental hospital. For her supper, she was served on a plastic tray a handful of chicken nuggets that had long reached their expiration date, flavorless mashed potatoes, and plastic-sealed saltine crackers, and to drink, a carton of milk. It was like an elementary school lunch, only far worse, especially considering where it was being served.

Eve was only able to stomach a few bites of nuggets, a spoonful of potato, and one dry cracker before she was obligated to push the tray back through the lower door slot.

The worst part of being locked in this room/cell (she still wasn't sure which term was most befitting it) was that there was nothing in there for her to do to entertain herself. While her hands were stuffed in her jacket pockets as she paced back and forth across the room, she was elated to discover her Sharpie pen still inside.

With no paper at her disposal, she resorted to using her own body as her canvas. Shucking off her jacket, Eve drew on her left forearm from wrist to elbow the image of a horned agent of F.E.A.R. in silhouette, a solid black figure with white spaces left for the eyes and mouth. As she painted herself, one of her brother's songs came to her, and she quietly sang it to herself.

"I am the innocent, I am what could have been. The dreams you talk about, now left on broken skin…"

Switching the pen from right hand to left, she began to draw on her right arm as well; ambidexterity was one of her greater blessings.

"…A world of hate awaits, we are the wild ones. They all look the same, our time has come..."

Over her right bicep, she began creating the image of the masked girl, her mouth open in a wild scream, her skin a black and white zebra-striped pattern from where her tears had washed the tar away.

"...I'm the chosen, the wretched and divine, I am the unspoken, the one they left behind. Fearless, fight until we die. I am broken, the wretched and divine…"

Just as she was finishing up work on the girl, two orderlies abruptly stormed into the room. Each took one of her arms, causing her to drop her pen, and hoisted her up to her feet.

Dragged kicking and screaming, Eve was taken into what looked to be an infirmary. The orderlies forced her down onto a stiff bed, holding her down while a nurse came forward with a washcloth and bottle of alcohol, using it to scrub away the ink from her arms.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she yelled, "Get the fuck off me!"

As Eve continued to struggle, one arm loosened from the orderlies grip, and she was able to sock the nurse right in the gut, knocking her back. While the orderly regained his hold on her, the nurse, recovering from the blow from Eve, went to retrieve another dose of mild tranquilizer to calm the wild girl.

The nurse continued cleaning Eve's arms, while Eve herself wept in defeat as her reluctantly succumbed to the drug. It was not meant to render her unconscious, but only to pacify her. Within seconds, her limbs felt weak and limp as if her muscles had been replaced with gelatin, her brain in a muddled, incoherent state.

Once her arms were cleaned, the orderlies hoisted her into a wheelchair and rolled her back to her cell, laying her into her bed and leaving her. Unable to retain her foothold in the waking world, Eve fell back into sleep.

* * *

**a new update, a scene more _loosely _based on the film, one that even includes BVB lyrics! ;D more of them will pop up here and there**

**enjoy**


	6. Madness Grows

**6. **

Through fault of the tranquilizers, her dreams came in as unclear and brief flashes of images. There were tears in the Prophet's eyes as the girl in the mask lay dead. Flames and ashes, flesh painted black, banners waving in the breeze, explosions and battles raging, clouds bursting from collapsing rubble, and songs sung in victory.

By the time Eve came to, the light coming through her window had dimmed.

When her hand clutched her head to steady her spinning brain, she saw that the art on her arms had been washed clean. Not only this, but as she rose from the bed, she saw her jacket was nowhere to be seen, and with it, the rosary that had been left in its pocket. Frantically, Eve searched every square inch of the room, but found it nowhere.

When the tray serving her breakfast came through, Eve ran up to the door.

"What happened to my jacket?" she asked the orderly on the other side.

But he merely answered, "Talk to Dr. Mober," and walked off.

"Hey, wait!" she hollered after him, "HEY!"

But he was already gone. Feeling utterly defeated, Eve carried her food tray to the desk and sat down to eat the waffle sticks that were like cardboard, even when soaked with syrup, and drink from the paper cup filled with orange juice. As ravenous as she was, her anxiety killed her appetite.

All she could do was sit in her cell and wait for her doctor to pay her another visit so that she might find out where her clothes had been taken. More importantly, where her rosary chain was. She could care less about clothing, but the chain was of vital importance. Without having it to comfort her, she truly would lose her mind.

Having given up on finishing her revolting breakfast, Eve paced back and forth across the room, waiting with great impatience. After one-hundred-sixty-two paces, her frustration began to really gnaw at her. As she reached the desk, her hand raised, almost of its own accord, and swatted the tray off from the desk's surface, sending clattering to the floor.

The floodgates were opened and her fury was unleashed. Her hands took hold of the desktop's edges and hurled it across the room, crashing into the opposite wall and toppling over onto its side. Next went the chair. Taking it by its legs, she threw it against the mirror, hoping to shatter it, but sadly, the glass was made shatterproof. Beaten, she tossed the chair to the floor.

As her head rose back up, she saw the surveillance camera in the far corner of the ceiling, watching and recording her every move. Further enraged by the thing's presence, she grabbed hold of one of the table's upturned legs, unfastened the bolts that that held it, and the leg was thence detached. Wielding it like a baton, she raised the steel leg and struck the camera, smashing it to smithereens.

Just as she anticipated, a pair of orderlies entered the room. The first one to come at Eve was struck across the temple with the steel rod, instantly rendering him unconscious and knocking him down to the floor.

The second was quick enough to grab Eve's arm in time to block her attack, but not enough to stop her foot from burying in his groin. His grip on her arm released as he collapsed to his knees, clutching himself in pain, allowing Eve to knock him out as well.

Just then, the good doctor arrived at last.

"Eve," he gasped, his eyes agape at the scene before him, "What's going on here?"

"What the hell did you jerks do with my jacket?!" Eve demanded.

"Eve, now calm down," said Dr. Mober as he moved closer, holding out his hand, "Just give that to me, and we can talk."

But Eve did not believe the doctor's false sincerity. As his hand extended for her to relinquish the steel leg into it, she used it to bat his hand away, snapping three of his fingers in the process.

"Answer me!"

"We-we had it removed," Mober panted, clutching his broken hand, "At the behest of your parents. We felt having something belonging to your brother might have been influencing your state of mind."

"That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," Eve muttered to herself, then aloud, "Where's my rosary?"

"Wh-What?"

"My fucking rosary chain!" she enunciated, raising the leg high, "Where is it?!"

"Okay, okay, here." Mober's good hand reached into his jacket pocket and produced Eve's rosary, returning it to its proper owner, who once again draped the chain around her neck, before she hit him across the temple, knocking him to the floor as well. And once the doctor was down, the girl fled.

Having no idea where she should go, Eve raced blindly through the corridors, shoving aside nurse after nurse that stood in her path. Knowing that she was several floors above the ground, she went for the stairs.

She only made it down two floors before an orderly appeared to block her attempted exit. She turned back to retreat, when another came up behind her to grab hold of her arms. When the orderly below removed the steel table 's leg from her grasp, she raised her legs and kicked him in the chest, sending him tumbling down the steps, leaving the man holding her to forcibly drag back up to the floor from which she had just fled. Her heel stomped down on his toes, crushing the fragile bones. The man's grip on her arms loosened as he howled in pain, allowing the girl enough leeway to wiggle free. He reached out to grab her wrist as she attempted to dash down the stairs, and in the struggle, her heel caught on the hem of her hospital pants, causing her to fall over the railing and plummet head first to the steps below.


	7. Shackles Of Steel And Bones

**7. **

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the girl's body blazed on a pyre surrounded by woeful Wild Ones. Flames glistened in the reflections of their tearful eyes as they mourned her tragic passing. The Prophet stood at the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed, the girl's mask clutched in his fingers. The glow in his eyes was not only from the fires that consumed her corpse, but from the rage that now burned inside of him. This strike was one far more personal that any other F.E.A.R. could have committed.

With a great and valiant speech from The Prophet, an army was forged, in the name of the masked girl and all others who have fallen victim under the rule of F.E.A.R. The Legion Of The Black. Using the mound of smoldering cinders, the Legion smeared the ash onto their skin like war paint. Masks were crafted, banners were painted and raised high as they marched through the desert winds with the Fallen at the lead on to battle while a war chant was sung.

This procession came to a halt at the threshold of the Institute of F.E.A.R. Five horned agents appeared in swirls of black vapor to block their entry. But the Legion would not be deterred.

From within the horde of masked soldiers, a child ran through to the front, the star medallion held up and spinning high above his head. David facing against the Goliath agent. The boy hurled the medallion to the agent standing in the center. It caught it easily and held the pentagram, tarnished with blood, knowing fully well where the boy had gotten it from.

The child returned to his comrades, and the agents stood with their staffs at the ready. Still, none amongst the Legion would allow themselves to be intimidated. Amongst the Fallen, the Destroyer charged forward, coming to a stop just before the agents, and struck his fist to the ground. The impact of his hand against the earth reverberated a sonic wave like an atomic explosion, blowing a gust with such force the agents were disintegrated into nothing. The wave progressed until it blew down the doors to the Institute, and the Legion stormed the place.

As the Deviant dashed through the halls at lightening speed, taking out guard after guard, the Destroyer took down the doors of each of the prison cells, allowing the Legion to invade and free the imprisoned Wild Ones from the chains that bound them.

Of course, F.E.A.R. would not relinquish their prisoners so easily. Just as the Legion was making their escape, the remaining agents of F.E.A.R. materialized in their path, blocking their exit. But the Legion would not surrender so easily either, especially having come this far.

So, the final battle ensued. As swift and skilled as the agents were, they had not a fraction of the heart and courage and will to fight the Wild Ones possessed. One by one, the agents of F.E.A.R. were struck down.

Then, as a crowning gesture of their conquest, the Destroyer demolished the lower walls of the building so that as they vacated it, the Institute thus collapsed and was reduced to a pile of rubble.

And so, the Fallen led their Legion Of The Black and their liberated brethren back to camp, victorious, and though weary from the battle, they were stronger than they had ever been before.

The feeding tube's end dragged across the back of her throat, tickling her gag reflex as it continued through her nasal passage until it exited her left nostril. Her eyelids parted to see the blonde-haired nurse at her side who had been "feeding" her. Eve uttered a weak groan, hoping to capture the woman's attention, but she retreated whether she had caught it or not.

As her awareness slowly returned to her, she looked down upon her body to assess its condition. From all she could see, she was lying in a hospital bed. Imbedded in her arm was a needle connecting to an IV. When she tried lifting her head from the pillow beneath it, first she felt it throb in time with her heartbeat, a sharp pain ringing through her entire brain with each pulse. Then she noticed an odd sensation at the back of her head. The fingers of her right hand reached back to feel a bald spot in the back of her cranium. Inside that bald spot was where stitches had been sewn into her skin.

Just then, a mid-thirties man with glasses and a white doctors coat entered. While applying pressure to the needle's entry point, he gently withdrew it from her vein. His thumb then touched the vein in her wrist to time her pulse according to his wristwatch.

"How are you feeling, Miss Black?" he asked her, his eyes remaining on his watch.

To which she replied, "My head is groggy, my eyes hurt, and I'm a little fucking confused here, doc."

"When you attempted to escape, you fell over the railing of a flight of stairs," he explained, "You were unconscious for several days, almost a week. You hurt your head pretty bad, but there wasn't any serious damage. Just a few stitches, but you'll be fine. I already called your doctor. He's on his way now."

Once his examination was complete, the doctor left.

Fearful for what was to come with Mober's arrival. Eve threw off the blanket that covered her legs, seeing that her clothes had been removed and replaced by a white hospital gown. As perturbed as she was about her missing clothing, she was elated to find that her rosary had been left hanging from her neck.

She attempted to get up from the bed, but the ache in her head prevented her from getting far. Because of her dazed brain, coupled with her muscles that had apparently deteriorated in strength from their week-long period of inertia, she ended up collapsing to the floor as soon as she stepped over the edge. Mustering up all of her might, she gripped the bed's railing and pulled herself back to her feet.

It actually took quite a few minutes for her to succeed in this feat. By the time she was upright and supporting herself against the bed rails, Dr. Mober had arrived. He still had a bruise, only halfway healed, on the side of his head from where he had been hit.

Upon seeing Eve struggling to stand on her own feet, he leaned his head back out through the doorway and called out for assistance from anyone who would care to listen.

A nurse entered with a wheelchair.

"Here," she said, "Have a seat, sweetie."

"No," she snarled through her teeth, her eyes shooting daggers into Mober's face.

But her argument did not stand any more than she couldn't. Eve was powerless to resist the nurse pulling her down into the chair. Once in, Eve was carted out of the room and down the hall and into the elevator with Dr. Mober in tow.

Once they were lowered down to the ground level, Eve was wheeled down through the parking lot, the afternoon sun ungraciously burning her eyes. She was led to a long white van that, judging from the painted logo along its side, belonged to the Fairfax Federal Institute. Out from the rear doors came a pair of the institute's orderlies, who took Eve up from her chair and brought her into the vehicle, joined by Dr. Mober while the two orderlies sat up in the front.

"I don't belong in a fucking psych ward," said Eve, "I don't care what you or my parents think, I am not whacked."

"It'll be a lot easier for you if you just stop rebelling and be a bit more compliant with us," said the doctor.

"Fuck off."

Dr. Mober responded with a despondent sigh and a shake of his head. After a few more minutes, the van came to a stop, and Eve was once again dragged against her will. As she was being taken back into the institute she had fought so hard, and nearly died, to escape from, she looked up to the sky to bid the sun farewell before losing sight of it once she passed through the doors.

Instead of taking her upstairs to her room, Eve was led down a flight of stairs into one of the lower levels. She was taken down a long and dark corridor, which had cell doors all the way down the walls left and right. Eve herself was taken through the very last door on the right-hand side. Inside was a small square cell with nothing in it but a chair with restraints, much resembling an electric chair, nailed to the floor right in the center of the room.

The two orderlies forced Eve into the chair and strapped her into it by binding her arms, wrists, legs, ankles, her neck, and another set of straps around her ribcage, leaving her entire body completely immobile. The two men were then dismissed, leaving Eve and Mober alone.

"What the hell is this?" Eve demanded as she futilely struggled to break free from her bondage.

"A precautionary measure, Miss Black," answered Dr. Mober.

"So what? You're putting me in solitary now?!"

"Not quite Miss Black. The thing is, you clearly have no intention of renouncing these visions of yours," Mober explained, "And because of your obvious strong will and rebellious nature, we've decided that you are too much of a threat, and we can't risk having you interfere with our plans. So, we are having you removed."

"Removed? What the fuck does that mean?"

Dr. Mober pulled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, revealing the tattoo on his left wrist, one of a haloed back-to-back "F", the emblem for F.E.A.R. He then reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, drawing out a large syringe with F.E.A.R.'s insignia on its side, filled with a black liquid.

"Don't worry," said Dr. Mober as he came closer to Eve with the needle, "This is just something that will incapacitate you so that by the time you wake back up, you won't be a bother to us anymore."

The needle was poised directly over her chest, and plunged through her sternum like a blade through warm butter, injecting the serum directly into her heart.

In an instant, she could feel the toxin being pumped through her circulatory system. Starting from her chest and spreading through every vein, blood vessel, and artery in each of her limbs, she could feel her body ever slowly succumbing to the injection. Every single cell of her being stiffened and crystallizing, petrifying her like wood. The serum worked its way up her neck and into her brain, and she was sent into not a sleep, but pure oblivion.

* * *

To her, it felt like only a single moment had passed before the darkness cleared and she returned to the world. Little did she know that a much, much longer span of time had gone by, like for one who sleeps without dreaming.

She was still bound to the chair inside the cell she had been confined in, still clothed in the white paper dress from the hospital, her rosary hanging from her neck. Only now, she was alone; Dr. Mober was nowhere in sight. Her arms tugged on her bindings, causing them to rattle against the chair's limbs, and tried calling out, but her throat was too dry and only a hoarse rasp came out.

But still she was heard. The door swung open, and Eve was stunned speechless when she saw who passed through it. It was none other than a horned agent of F.E.A.R. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, the agent was dressed in long black robes that covered its entire body, leaving their sex indeterminable, the golden emblem for F.E.A.R. imprinted in gold over its chest. Its head was encased in a skull-faced helmet with tall curved horns rising from the top of it.

Without speaking a word, the agent came towards Eve and undid her straps, then, taking her up and holding her by upper arms, he took her out from the cell and led her through the corridor and up the stairwell. Its hold on her was actually a help to her, for her joints felt so stiff that it pained her to make to slightest movement.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Eve was taken through what had once been the Fairfax Institute. As she walked, she passed by cell after cell. Many of the doors had since decayed and fallen apart, instead leaving bars in their place to keep the prisoners caged inside. Now, it was an actual prison, a dark, dank, and desolate place, devoid of all light and hope.

Eve was taken up to the level above, where she was placed inside a cell that was completely empty, empty by the truest of definitions. Inside it was nothing more than its four rotted walls, the ceiling, from which hung a single bare bulb to illuminate the room, and hard floor and a rustic toilet in the corner. It was also among the few which still had a fully intact door.

After tossing her to the floor of the cell, the agent left her to her self, bolting the door shut and sealing it tight. Eve groaned as she stretched and flexed her rigid joints. After feeling more limber, she attempted to pace about the room, but in a matter of minutes, even that proved too tiring for her, and she ended up back on the floor, slumped back against the wall.

Was this another dream? If that were so, it was certainly a different experience than usual. Before, she had always been an objective viewer, merely an observer of events, never a participant. Besides, this was all to real to be a dream, even compared to ones as vivid as hers.

Her cell was like the rest of the building, blackened, rotted and peeling, the surface of the walls and ceiling chipping away, while the structure of it relentlessly retained its strength and support. The air was dry, the temperature fairly moderate. Warm, but kept relatively bearable by the draft coming through the cracks in the walls. There was also a foul smell present. It was hard to find anything she knew to relate it to; it was that sort of pungent, damp, vile smell that was befitting this kind of place. It smelled of death. Old death mixed with new, accumulated over the years.

Eve sat in the floor, attempting to count the passing minutes, marking each one by drawing a line with her finger through the grime on the floor. Sometimes she would get up to pace about, but would eventually tire out and sit again. The entire time, she twirled and rubbed the metal star over her chest, nervously. How long would she be left in there? And if someone were to come, what would be done with her, or to her, then?

By her count, forty-seven minutes had gone by when the cell door was opened. She rose to her feet, expecting an agent to come through, but there was none. Instead, it was a man, though it was obvious he was an ally of F.E.A.R. He wore long dark robes with the gold emblem over his chest, much like the agents wore, and black gloves on both hands. A hood was pulled over his head, but not enough to cover his chalk-white face.

"Who... who the hell are you?" asked Eve, her throat only slightly less rough than before.

"I am the Voice of F.E.A.R.," answered the man, "I speak on the behalf of the Matriarch and spread the gospels and proclamations of our glorious creed."

"Then can you explain to me what's going on here?" Eve then demanded, "Like what the hell am I doing here?"

"Like others before you, Eve, you had been removed from your time by manner of petrified sleep, preserving your body for the last few centuries until you could be reawakened in this current era, where we have established our unmitigated domination of Earth and you would thus no longer be of any threat. This has been performed on only five others, those who, like you, possess extraordinary talents. Unfortunately, those five managed to escape us and with them, had taken dozens of other prisoners from this Institution. They now evade our forces and rally together to rise against us. But, with your complicity, you can relay to us the information you have received from your visions of our world, tell us all we require to know so that we may eradicate these wretched Wild Ones... permanently."

It was all true. Everything Eve had seen, everything Andy had told her, all that she knew about F.E.A.R. and the Wild Ones... all of it was reality. She also realized if that were so, if her knowledge, and her... visions, were correct, then it meant that F.E.A.R. was destined to fall, and with her help, they would.

"And why in the fuck," Eve snarled, "should I help you?"

"If you so choose to aid us, you will be richly rewarded. You will be granted a position of immense power, seated by the hand of the great Serpentine Matriarch, Herself. If instead you should choose to resist, the repercussions shall be... severe."

Eve paused for a beat, pretending to ponder her options, before answering, "Fuck you, and your Serpent bitch!" Her response was emphasized by her spitting directly into the man's right eye.

The Voice wiped the saliva from his socket, remaining seemingly unresponsive towards her spiteful and contemptuous act.

He sighed, "Have it your way, Eve," before exiting her cell.

The door was sealed, and she was once again left alone. But for how long?

* * *

**since they flow so well when put together anyway (plus for my own selfish desire to speed things along), i decided to conjoin three chapters into one**


End file.
